Page 120 of Made for Mayhem

“There are seven pockets. I’ve never had that many pockets.”

I chuckled, tugging on her hat until it sat straight on her face over her glasses. “Perfect for collecting flowers.”

“That’s what I said!” Junie wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. I soaked in her warmth, holding onto this last piece of my sister. “I’ll miss you tonight. I’ve never slept in a tent before, but Ty let me read about them last night on his phone. And Jace promised we can make s’mores. Will you be here when I get home tomorrow? ”

Tears sprung to my eyes again, and I squeezed her a little tighter. “Always, cutie. I’ll always be here waiting for you.”

“Ready, bug?” Ty said from behind her.

He leaned against the doorway, looking better than he had any right to. His shorts were somehow even shorter than any I’d seen before, and the black tee stretched across his broad biceps I’d become very familiar with the last few days. The Mayhem hat he often wore was turned around backward, and he’d shaved his face clean, only emphasizing that mustache I loved so much.

A car horn beeped outside, and Junie squeezed me one more time, then let go, running back out the door as fast as she’d come in. I stayed there on the floor and blew out a deep breath, noticing Ty hadn’t walked away yet.

We had one more day of work to finish the kitchen, but I could hardly stand the idea of getting up off the floor, let alone stepping foot inside her house again.

As if reading my thoughts, Ty asked, “Wanna get out of here today?”

I looked up at him through my lashes, studying the man who was learning to read me far too well.

“What do you have in mind?”

He walked toward me, then squatted down to lay a kiss on my lips. “I say we play hooky. Have a good day, just you and me. Maybe get naked at some point.”

I grinned, letting a small chuckle slip free. “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

His nose rubbed against mine, then he dropped one more kiss on my lips. “Never.”

“Ty?” Emmy called from the front door, and he stood up, walking back out of the room. I got to my feet and turned toward the bed, seeing the letter again.

My hands shook as I reached for it, then cracked it open.

I miss you so much.

This was a terrible idea.

I’d do anything to hug you one more time.

I flipped the paper over, craving more from her, but that was it.

I crumpled the note in my palm, then let the tears fall hot. No matter how fast I wiped at my cheeks, I couldn’t seem to stop them.

At some point, the letters would stop, and that would be it. I’d never see her handwriting scrawled across a paper with new words of encouragement. Never laugh at one more of her jokes. Never feel like she was right there, talking me through grieving her.

And then what would I do?

Unfortunately, the tragic circumstances in my life meant I was all too familiar with grief and the grip it held on you for the rest of your days. Sometimes it felt okay, and then sometimes it would hit you like a freight train that appeared out of thin air.

But every time I’d grieved before, I’d done it with Violet at my side.

I’d turned to her when it felt too hard to breathe, too difficult to get out of bed.

With each letter, I understood her a little more.

She knew how hard this would be for me to do alone. Knew I wouldn’t tell anyone how bad it hurt. Knew I needed her, even after she was gone.

But the letters couldn’t go on forever.

Ty’s heavy footsteps returned before I could pull myself together. He stopped in the doorway, took one look at me, and crossed the room in three strides. Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back against his chest. I sank into him, the note still clenched in my fist, tears soaking the collar of my shirt.